


Worlds Apart

by RobertCop3



Category: Fatal Fury, King of Fighters
Genre: Emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9841442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobertCop3/pseuds/RobertCop3
Summary: A short fic that takes place sometime before the first "Fatal Fury." Ten years have passed since Jeff Bogard's murder. Andy has left the Shiranui dojo to find and reunite with his brother. Mai finds herself trying to cope with his sudden absence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It turns out I've had more ideas than I thought I would. I originally intended to post one Fatal Fury lemon, and that would be that. But the ideas keep coming. This one is a short little piece that takes place not long before the events of the first “Fatal Fury.” I feel like my brain is determined to try and form some sort of natural progression for Andy and Mai's relationship in the animes, so that their kiss in “Fatal Fury: The Motion Picture” makes more sense. Maybe someday I'll try to take their relationship past what we saw in the animes. I've heard that SNK wanted to do a fourth anime after The Motion Picture, but had a falling out with the animation studio. I may try tackling that someday, but I know there are already a bunch of “Fatal Fury 4” fics out there, and a bunch of Mai/Andy wedding fics, too. So I'd only do it if I could come up with an idea that stands out. Well, maybe I'll figure it out someday. Paths are rarely in a straight line.
> 
> All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime. “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)” is written by Jonathan Cain and Steve Perry, and is copyright Columbia Records. I'm posting this fic for free, and don't make any money off of it.
> 
>  
> 
> NOTES: According to the SNK wiki, Mai's grandfather was deceased by the time of the events of the video game “Fatal Fury 3”, which came out in 1995. I haven't found much else on him, so I am assuming that Hanzo Shiranui is still alive shortly before the events of the first Fatal Fury game (as well as the “Legend of the Hungry Wolf” anime), which is when this fic takes place.
> 
> Concerning the Japanese translations, I did a lot of reading on them, and apparently, Japan has several different expressions that mean “I love you.” I'm pretty sure that I chose the one symbolizing platonic, familial love, but if I chose wrong, please let me know. Hope you like. And as always, feedback is welcome.

 

* * *

_If you must go, I wish you love_

_You'll never walk alone_

_Take care, my love_

_Miss you, love._

_Someday, love will find you_

_Break those chains that bind you_

_One night will remind you_

_How we touched and went our separate ways._

-Journey

****Mino, Japan – The Shiranui Dojo** **

The snow on the ground outside the kitchen window looked peaceful as it blended into the gray and white of the distant mountains and the overcast sky. Mai Shiranui usually loved watching the snow, as long as it was through a window, inside where it was warm. Today, however, the serenity was lost on her.

She sighed and focused her attention on the kitchen sink as she washed the dishes from breakfast. It was no good, though. It felt like everything reminded her of _him._ The rice noodles she had cooked reminded her of his shoulder-length blond hair, and also of that disgusting spaghetti and natto dish that he enjoyed so much. The act of washing dishes reminded her of that disastrous time that he'd tried to surprise them by cooking Mai's favorite recipe for sweet bean buns, and Grandfather had compared the state of the kitchen afterwards to the Allied invasion of Guadalcanal. Even the cherry tree she saw through the kitchen window, its branches naked now because of the winter, reminded her of the birthday present he'd gotten her once: an elegant-looking pewter hairpin with the handle in the shape of a cherry blossom. Mai had always thought it was too beautiful to wear, and kept it on on her vanity table, so she could admire it every morning while she brushed her long auburn hair.

_Andy,_ she thought to herself as she placed the last dish in the drying rack. _How could you? I thought that you cared about us. About me. Did your time here really mean so little to you? Did I mean so little?_ Although she didn't want it to, the ninja girl once again found her mind going back to the end of last summer.

* * *

She had sensed that Andy Bogard would be leaving soon, as had her grandfather. Andy had always been guarded, but lately Mai felt that he was more so than usual. He was practicing long into the night, and Mai usually would not hear him come back to his room until her bedside clock read well after midnight. He was taking his meals alone instead of in the kitchen with Mai and her grandfather, he rarely said more than two words when he was asked a question, and he was using the telephone more than Mai had ever seen him use it since he'd first arrived at the dojo all those years ago. Mai was never sure who was on the other end of that phone, but judging by the things Andy was saying, she had guessed it was either his brother, Terry, or his old sensei and Grandfather's good friend, Master Tung Fue Rue.

While Andy had made his plans, Mai busied herself making hers. After ten years, Mai Shiranui was determined to learn Andy's true feelings. She had known for some time that she was in love with him, and he would soon be embarking on a mission to get justice for his father. But before Andy left, Mai had wanted to get everything out in the open: express her feelings for him, get him to admit if he truly had feelings for her, and also... she had wanted Andy to make her a woman. It would have been more than just sex. Mai had wanted to make love to her one and only, to know what it felt like to be linked so passionately with a man that she loved with all of her heart... while he was still here. Because after Andy was gone, she might never see him again, and she would be left wondering what it felt like, perhaps forever.

Then came the fateful night. Mai had planned everything out meticulously. She had waited until a few minutes after midnight, long after Grandfather was asleep, when she figured that Andy would be back from his exercises. Then she had tiptoed down the corridor towards the room that been Andy's home for a decade. Mai had been wearing a light green yukata that she'd made especially for the occasion. She'd been saving up the money for the material for over a year, as it was the finest quality hand-woven silk, ordered from China, and didn't come cheap. She had designed the yukata to fit only her form, and no other, perfectly hugging every inch, every luscious curve of her body, and the fabric was see-through, leaving nothing to the imagination. _If this doesn't work,_ she had thought to herself, _I don't know what will._ Andy had always either chosen to ignore or had been truly oblivious to her flirting with him, but once she got him alone in his room, with her body and her soul laid bare for him, he'd have nowhere to run. There was no way he'd be able to ignore her.

She had knocked gently on the sliding door to Andy's room, and got no answer. So she'd knocked again, a little louder, but not too loud so as not to rouse Grandfather. "Andy?" She'd called softly. She pressed her ear against the rice paper and heard nothing on the other side. Could Andy actually be asleep?

_Who cares if he is?_ Mai had told herself. _You_ have _to take this chance, girl. It's now or never._ Gritting her teeth, Mai slid the door open, entered, flicked on the light... and found an empty room.

The futon was bare, and so were the walls and dresser. But Andy hadn't come with many belongings, and hadn't acquired many of them in the last ten years, so that was hardly unusual. Mai thought that he might still be out. But then she opened his closet and dresser drawers, and found nothing in them. She tiptoed down to the hall bathroom they were forced to share, and found his toothbrush and other personal items gone.

Slipping back into her room, Mai changed out of the yukata and into her pink and gold kunoichi uniform, and spent the next few hours moving silently through the treetops in the forest around the Shiranui dojo, searching for any sign of Andy. Nothing, not even so much as a footprint. Stealth had never been Andy's strong suit, but somehow, he had left as if he had never been there, without alerting anyone. That was what hurt Mai most of all, was that the gaijin fighter had left no trace. He had not even left a letter. If he had, she would have found it, as she'd scoured every inch of the dojo, checking any place Andy _might_ have left a letter or at least some message... and found nothing. Nothing except for a small stack of yen on the kitchen counter, with no note attached. As it was sitting next to the phone, Grandfather had rightly guessed that it was to help pay for the long-distance phone bill that Andy had helped rack up over the last few weeks.

* * *

Six months had passed since that night. At first, it had been easy not to think about Andy. Mai had finished high school, but she still had much to learn if she was to inherit the Shiranui dojo someday. So, her autumn days had been occupied by a steady regimen of training, chores to keep the dojo and the grounds in working order, and learning all about the finances and investments that helped keep it running during those times when there were no students.

Mai also spent her days taking care of her grandfather. Hanzo Shiranui's mind was as sharp as it ever was, but Mai wished the same could be said for his body. He had good days and bad days, but overall, he was no longer able to withstand the physical rigors of training students. Occasionally, he was well enough to lecture classes on the principles of Koppou-Ken, but he could do no more than that. Mai assisted him with these classes, another much-needed distraction to occupy her time and thoughts. Having studied Koppou-Ken under Hanzo for most of her lifetime, she knew enough about the art to provide visual demonstrations to accompany his lectures.

That had kept her busy all through the fall. But now it was winter. There would be no more lectures at the dojo until the spring. Mai still had her exercise routines to take up her mornings. Mondays and Thursdays, it was strength and endurance, Tuesday and Friday, agility and balance. Wednesday and Saturday, she would work either on focusing her chi, or practicing some new kata or fan dance she might have read about. But other than that, Mai did not have as many distractions as she'd used to.

Their only regular visitor was Hanzo's old friend, Jubei Yamada, who would stop by at least once a week to play Shogi or Richi Mahjong, or chat about the old days, and on visits when Hanzo was feeling particularly good, they might drink a toast to fallen comrades with a cup of hot sake. But the only other visitors were delivery boys who brought mail or goods up from the town. There were also very few chores to do outside, except to occasionally jump up onto the dojo's roof to brush off the snow when it got too thick. On her last trip up there, Mai couldn't help but think how the snow covering the roof's bright red tiles reminded her of the colors of Andy's fighting outfit.

Without so many distractions, it was easier to let her thoughts wander towards Andy. Six months. Six months with no phone call, no letter, no word at all. At this point, Mai would settle for a post card, even if there was nothing on it but Andy's signature, just  _anything_ to tell her that he was still alive, that he at least cared enough to let her know this.

Because despite how much he'd hurt her... she still loved him. She gazed out the kitchen window and remembered a night when she was fourteen, had overheard a phone conversation between her grandfather and Master Tung in America. "Never have I had a student whose emotions are so wildly unbalanced as Jeff-san's boy," Hanzo had told his old friend. "It continues to be his most dangerous obstacle, far more dangerous than any physical obstacle I have ever come up with for his lessons. A pity. If he could only calm the tempest within, I could see him being a greater warrior than even his tousan."

Mai wanted to believe that Andy cared. He had to. Her birthday present from him had not just been some random bauble. Andy had actually paid attention, had known both how special Mai's hair was to her (people always told her it was just like her mother's), and that the cherry blossom was her favorite flower. Or that time he had tried to cook one of her favorite foods: yes, the bean buns looked and tasted like hockey pucks, and he somehow managed to dirty every single dish in the dojo making just one small batch. But he had still cared enough to try.

Yet, whenever Andy had done things like that, just when it seemed like he might be starting to let someone in, he backed away again, like he was afraid to let them get too close. He cared, despite his best efforts not to. Mai still wanted to try and get in, to get to know the Andy who would do things like remember her birthday or one of her favorite foods. Now she feared she might never get the chance.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone on the kitchen wall ringing. "I'll get it, Ojisama!" She shouted. She glided across the kitchen floor, and picked up the receiver. "Moshi moshi. Shiranui-Mai speaking."

"Of course it is," said the man on the other end. "Who else would have such a heavenly voice?"

Mai rolled her eyes. It was her latest would-be suitor. They seemed to have crawled out of the woodwork after Andy left. _You'd think after him calling four times and me not returning any of them, he'd take a damn hint!_ "Hiro-san!" She responded as sweetly as she could. "What a nice surprise!"

"Are you sure? Hiro asked. "It's been almost two weeks since I took you to dinner, and you haven't returned any of my calls."

"Sorry," said Mai. "I've been busy."

"With what? You and your grandfather have no more classes until spring. Your only real visitor these days is Yamada-Jubei, and you've given me your honest opinion of _him_. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. When can we see each other again?"

Mai sighed. She had lost track of the number of times she'd been through this dance, and she hated to break their hearts. God knows, she knew what that felt like, after what Andy had done. But she needed to stay true to herself. "Look, Hiro, the truth is... Hiro, you're a very sweet boy. You always were. But... but..." _You're not Andy._ The words were on the tip of Mai's tongue, but she could not speak them.

She didn't have to. Hiro was no fool. He'd gone to high school with the both of them. "But you still carry a torch for that gaijin." He sighed loudly. "God damn it, Mai! Why didn't you just tell me that? Why did you say yes when I asked you out?"

The ninja girl felt her eyes starting to water. This time, she had actually hurt the poor man, not what she had intended, but it had happened. "I'm so sorry, Hiro. I guess I said yes because I... did think you were cute. And Ojisama is always telling me I need to get out more. But that's no excuse. It was wrong of me to lead you on. I'm sorry."

There was a long pause on the other end. Then: "I forgive you, Mai. I just thought that, with your American friend not here, I might have had a chance. I guess I aimed too high."

"I'm so sorry, Hiro," Mai repeated. "You take care of yourself, okay? And whatever you do, never stop aiming high. I mean that."

"Mai-san, I want you to do something for me. If he ever comes back, you make him appreciate what he has in you, no matter what it takes!"

Mai couldn't help but laugh, in spite of herself. "That's a promise."

"Good. Take care, pretty lady." Then Hiro hung up. Mai put the receiver back on the cradle, then walked out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the master bedroom, but found the futon empty, and Hanzo's walking stick not in its usual place.

Today was obviously one of his good days. Now Mai just had to hope that Master Jubei would not come calling. The vein on her temple throbbed just a little as she recalled the old pervert's most recent visit.

* * *

When Jubei had arrived one week ago, Hanzo had still been asleep. So the judo master had actually had the nerve to suggest to Mai that the two of them play a "strip version" of Tsu-ten-jakku. He then showed Mai the playing cards he'd brought, which had pictures of naked women on them. Mai responded by smacking him across the face with her fan, sending him sprawling.

The commotion had awoken Hanzo, who had entered the foyer and asked for the meaning of the disturbance. After it was explained, Jubei had gotten another smack on the head, this time from Hanzo's walking stick. After that, Jubei had simply bowed, apologized for coming at a bad time, and showed himself out.

* * *

Mai suspected that they probably wouldn't be seeing Master Jubei for a while now, which was fine with her. She gathered up Hanzo's breakfast tray from the bed, brought it back to the kitchen, and went in search of her grandfather.

She found Hanzo in the reading room, sitting in his worn easy chair. He was wearing his favorite winter kimono, the one made of thick navy blue wool, with a blanket covering his legs. His reading glasses were perched on his sharp hatchet nose as he skimmed over the newspaper.

Hanzo Shiranui looked up and smiled as his granddaughter entered the room. Mai had done her reddish-brown hair up in a tight, ornate bun, and was dressed in a heavy wool kimono that she had made herself, pink with gold trim, with white cranes and cherry blossoms embroidered here and there into the fabric. Mai had always been a talented seamstress, and she seemed to have a fondness for those colors, as she had also used them to design her fighting gi.

Of course, Hanzo still didn't approve of most of the outfits she wore on her trips away from the dojo, when she went to the beach in the summer, or went to visit friends in Tokyo for the weekend, and he doubted her late mother would approve either. But Mai was nineteen, a grown woman, and had proven herself more than capable of making her own decisions, so Hanzo kept his mouth shut. At least while she was under the dojo's roof, Mai dressed like a traditional Japanese lady out of respect for her grandfather and for her heritage, and Hanzo was proud of her for that.

Mai Shiranui bowed as she entered the room. "Ojisama," she said.

"Mai-chan," Hanzo responded by tilting his own head slightly. "Who was on the phone?"

She shrugged. "It was just Hiro-san."

Hanzo nodded, and set his newspaper down on the tray table next to the chair. "I remember him. You two went to dinner not too long ago, did you not? He was a nice boy."

"He was," said Mai. "And he's cute." _But not as cute as Andy_ _._ "But we had a talk, and decided we should just be friends."

"Hm." Hanzo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You both came to this decision after only one date? Interesting. Especially since the last time he called, you were outside sweeping the courtyard, so I needed to answer the phone, and I had the impression that he was quite taken with you." He saw Mai fidgeting uncomfortably where she stood, and so he shrugged. "Never mind. It is none of my business. I am old, you are young. And the old have a tendency to forget what it was like to be young. And I am certainly the last person who should be giving advice on this matter, as the last woman I dated was your dear oba-chan."

Mai saw him smile sadly at the memory of her grandmother, and decided to busy herself with tidying up the reading room. Hanzo pretended to read the paper, but he kept one eye fixed on her, and could tell by her awkward movements that she was preoccupied by something. She normally moved more fluidly, as her agility lessons had been the ones she excelled at the most. "One so young should not have a face touched by so many cares," Hanzo told his granddaughter. "What is troubling you?"

Mai was so lost in thought, it took her a few moments to realize he had spoken. "Hm? Oh, it's nothing, Papa Hanzo."

The old man smiled at her. "The last time you called me that, you were so small, it still took you two hands to hold a fan. So I know it's not nothing. Speak your mind, child."

Mai moved to the foot of his easy chair and knelt down, placing her hands in her lap. "Forgive me, Ojisama. I was just thinking about... him again. I can't help it. More than ever lately, I can't stop thinking about him. How could he just leave us in the middle of the night? No goodbyes, not even a letter, like we meant nothing to him. He couldn't even say a simple goodbye to his sensei, or to the people he's known for ten years. All he left was some money, like he thought we were just some boarding house. How could he be so disrespectful? So cold?"

Hanzo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Andy Bogard had easily been one of his most dedicated students. Hanzo had made it clear from day one that as a gaijin, Andy would need to try twice as hard, and the boy had responded by trying four times as hard. There had been no doubt as to Andy's fighting skill, and his dedication to the arts. His emotions had been another story. Andy had always seemed determined to bury those emotions that actually mattered, while focusing on those that didn't, thinking that this would help him in his goal. It had always been his greatest weakness, one that prevented him from fulfilling his true potential.

"The path he has chosen is a solitary one," Hanzo said grimly. "Because he feels that is what he must walk. But no path is ever a straight line. They have a habit of... converging with the paths of others, whether we want them to or not. His path brought him to us, to our paths, but he is still determined to walk alone, though you desire to walk alongside him. This saddens you."

Mai knew what her grandfather meant by that. She was uncertain if he knew how just deeply Mai loved Andy, but he was aware that the gaijin had a large place in her heart. "Hai, Ojisama. I care about him. I care about him very much. But I've never known if he truly cares about me. And he's thousands of miles away right now, and I don't know if he's even still alive, or if this hanzaisha, Geese Howard, has killed him. We've had no word. None for six months. What if he never comes back? What if he's buried in a shallow grave somewhere, and we never find out? What if I never get to tell him the things I wanted to tell him? What if I never know his thoughts, his feelings, if he... if he really... really does..."

Hanzo raised his hand, indicating that he was stepping out of the role of grandparent and into that of teacher, and Mai immediately fell silent. "Close your eyes, Mai-chan," he instructed.

Mai did as she was told. She felt her grandfather reach out and gently take her wrist in his hand. Then she felt him guide her hand to the top of her breastbone, placing her fingertips lightly against it, after which he let go of her wrist. "Out of all the students I've trained down through the years," Hanzo spoke softly to her. "I have never met one as gifted at listening to their heart as you, child. So listen to it now. What does it tell you?"

Mai felt a tear roll silently down her cheek. As a sensei, her grandfather had never given praise lightly. All students, even those related to him by blood, had needed to truly earn it. Mai squeezed her eyes tighter and looked deep inside herself. In her mind and in her heart, she pictured Andy. She remembered their many sparring matches together. Andy had always had a tendency to leap without looking. It was something Mai had in common with him. It was why she chose to put extra effort into her agility and balance training, so that if she ever found herself in over her head, she could also find a way out, a place to escape and regroup.

Andy was the same in that respect, as well. Maybe not as agile, but adept at thinking on his feet, to compensate for that headstrong nature. Living as an orphan on South Town's streets for many years, it had likely been a necessary skill for survival. And Andy's time at the Shiranui dojo had only strengthened that, along with many other skills. But long before he came here, even before Jeff Bogard and Master Tung, Andy had survived on his own. Yes, there could be no doubt in her heart, there was only one answer that could be true. Mai took a deep breath, and gave it: "It tells me that Andy is alive."

"And does it also tell you that you will see him again?"

Mai thought back to the morning after Andy had gone. She had awoken late, and the only reason she had even fallen asleep was because she had cried into her futon until she'd had no more tears left, and then drifted off from sheer exhaustion. When she'd gone into the kitchen the next day, Grandfather had been sitting at the table. If he had not already known Andy had left, Mai's bloodshot eyes, puffy from crying, would have told him.

As Mai had sat at the table, gazing intently at her lap and trying to keep it together, she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Grandfather standing over her. Hanzo had smiled at her and said: "It has been my belief for some time now that that boy was born on the wrong side of the ocean. In many ways, he is very much American, but in some ways his heart and his spirit belong to Nippon now. This island carries a small part of him within it, just as he carries a small piece of it with him. He will not be able to stay away forever."

Another tear ran down her cheek at that memory, and Mai brushed it away with her other hand. "It does, Ojisama."

"And do you trust your heart?"

Mai opened her deep brown eyes, which were now shining with tears she was trying to hold back. "I do," she said firmly. "I trust it completely."

Hanzo nodded, and sat back in the chair. "That settles it, then. If you trust your heart, I trust it as well."

It would have been more proper to bow, but Mai could not help herself. She threw her arms around Hanzo, kissed him on the cheek, and hugged him tight. "Domo arigato... Papa Hanzo," she whispered in his ear.

Hanzo laughed, and returned the hug. "As there are no other senpai or kohai present, I will overlook your breach in the proper formalities."

Mai could tell from his tone that he was joking, but she stood up again, and after drying her eyes with the sleeve of her kimono, folded her arms and bowed, keeping her eyes on him. "Arigato, Ojisama."

Hanzo bowed his head in return. "You are most welcome, magomusume. But the credit really belongs to your heart."

"Yes, but you helped me to see what was right in front of me, what I should have known all along."

The old man gave a small shrug. "Sometimes, we don't always see right in front of us, if we are looking too far down the road. Or are trying to see across the ocean."

Mai laughed a little, suddenly feeling as though a large weight were gone from her shoulders. "Are you well, Ojisama?" She asked him. "Can I bring you anything? Some green tea, perhaps?"

Hanzo shook his head. "Thank you, but no. Perhaps later, I will take a walk around the courtyards before sunset, after which I may desire some tea. But for now, I will rest a bit longer."

"Very well, Ojisama," Mai said, and turned to leave. As she got to the doorway, she turned to face Hanzo, and bowed again. "Daisuki da yo, grandfather."

"Daisuki, Mai-Chan," Hanzo replied with a small smile.

"If you need anything, I'll be working outside."

Mai's boots were where she had left them, by the door leading out to the courtyard. She slipped them on, then picked up her broom and went outside to clear a foot path for her grandfather's walk.

* * *

Mid-morning turned into afternoon, then into evening all too quickly as it usually did during the winter months. Soon it was night. The dishes from dinner were put away, her grandfather was asleep in the master bedroom, and Mai Shiranui found herself back out in the courtyard.

A heavy wool shawl was draped over her shoulders to provide extra protection against the chill as she gazed up at the sky. The clouds from that morning had since rolled away, leaving a rich black dome overhead pockmarked by the twinkling of hundreds of stars.

For a moment, Mai wondered where Andy was now, and if it was day or night there. If it was night, was he looking up at these same stars and thinking about how beautiful they were? She doubted it. Mai had always loved stargazing, and had sometimes tried to get Andy to join her. But Andy had never been one for looking up, instead preferring to look only at whatever the next goal in his training was.

"The only stars he'd be interested in are the ones he'd be making his opponent see," Mai said out loud to the crisp night air, and actually laughed. For the first time since Andy had gone, Mai was able to think about him and laugh. Her heart was no longer troubled. Andy could take care of himself, and if Terry was with him and was _anything_ at all like him, then she pitied whoever or whatever they might be facing.

Up above, a shooting star raced overhead, a brief strand of silver across the deep obsidian of night. On any other night, Mai might have wished for Andy's safe return, but now she did not need to. Her heart told her that Andy was alive, that someday she would see him again, and she believed it. Instead, she shut her eyes, pressed the palms of her hands together, and whispered a different prayer: "I wish for the strength and the wisdom to do my duty as a kunoichi, to uphold the reputation and preserve the honor of this dojo, and the honor of the Shiranui name and its legacy."

She opened her eyes again. They glistened faintly in the star light, this time not with tears but with a new sense of resolve. Wherever Andy was, he was doing what he felt he must, so Mai would do no less. She was the granddaughter of Japan's greatest Koppou-Ken master, and a trained martial artist; a traditional Japanese beauty _and_ a modern ninja girl rolled into one. She would not cry, she would endure.

Mai took one last look at the starry night, and then headed back inside. She moved through every room in the dojo, making sure all the lights were off, and paused for a moment beside the open door to Andy's old room. Mai had continued to make the futon in it, so that Andy would have a bed if he returned. Though Mai was now confident that it would not be if, but when. And when he did, perhaps she could try again with that yukata she had made, which was currently hanging in her closet.

_Andy Bogard, I will love you until the day I die_ _,_ she thought as she gazed into the stillness of the empty bedroom. _I may break the heart of every last single man in Japan, but I'll just have to live with that. And when you come back, I promise that you will always know how I feel, even if you aren't as open._ Mai nodded, and continued down the hall to the bathroom, where she washed her face and attended to the other pre-bedtime necessities, then she moved to her own bedroom.

She slid the door to her room shut, and went through the motions of her nightly routine: letting her hair down and brushing it, then removing her heavy wool kimono and the rest of her clothes and putting on something lighter, more breathable, for sleep. Tonight, she went with one of her favorites: a pink cotton robe with cartoon kittens embroidered all over it. She then crawled eagerly into her futon, and pulled the heavy blanket up over herself. For the first night in six months, she was going to bed feeling peaceful, and relaxed.

"Of course you do realize, Andy," she said out loud. "That when you do get back, I will have to find some way to make you sweat for being so insensitive." Mai Shiranui giggled to herself, then reached over, snapped off the bedside light, and drifted off to sleep with a crafty smile on her lips.

The End?

 

 

 


End file.
